


Singing a Different Tune

by Seigus



Category: Love Live! School Idol Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - Cafe Setting, F/F, Honoka embarrasses herself, Tsubasa speaks only English, Umi is whipped, why is Honoka even working at a cafe?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-05-15
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:51:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6630226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seigus/pseuds/Seigus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cafe staff Honoka meets hot English-speaking Tsubasa.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Don't Sleep in Class

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this prompt: http://otpprompts.tumblr.com/post/142331257578/imagine-your-otp-speaking-different-languages-and
> 
> And because the world needs more Tsubasa/Honoka.

The cozy, quaint cafe huddled among bustling stores along a street in Ikebukuro was enjoying brisk business as usual. The afterwork crowd kept the shop’s fresh-faced staff busy. Anyone walking in would be greeted by the invigorating aroma of coffee brewed from the finest arabica beans. In short, everything was fine and dandy until...

**CRASH!**

A mug was shattered into a million yellow ceramic pieces on the well-polished parquet. Its dark, steaming contents splattered and streaked in various directions like an abstract art piece the culprit of the mess would never be able to appreciate.

“Honoka!” There sounded the usual shriek of admonishment that regular patrons were used to. Several continued to sip their beverages or chat with their companions as if all was right with the world which, unfortunately, wasn’t the case for the ginger-haired waitress clutching her cheeks in distress.

“I’m sorry, Umi-chan!”

“It’s the fourth one this week and it’s only Monday! You are going to get your pay docked by the manager. Don’t come begging me again when you don’t have enough money!”

“Umi-chan is so mean!” the girl named Kousaka Honoka, also well-known as the walking train wreck, wailed. As large glistening drops wobbled at the corners of her eyes, a gentle hand stroked her head. Her other childhood friend, Minami Kotori - who was always nice unlike Miss Stick-Shoved-Up-Her-Ass as Honoka secretly called Umi - had come to defuse the potentially explosive situation.

“I’m sure Honoka-chan will be more careful from now on. Let’s not be too harsh on her, Umi-chan,” said Kotori, her amber eyes radiating innocent, pleading sparkles at Umi. The bluenette inhaled sharply. Averting Kotori’s gaze as a fiery blush spread across her cheeks, Sonoda “I’m-so-gay-for-my-best-friend” Umi cleared her throat loudly, only to choke on her own saliva and start a coughing fit. So much for preserving her dignity.

“Y-You always baby her too much, Kotori. That’s why she never learns.” Umi cursed inwardly when she stuttered. “Anyway,” she continued, directing her attention back to Honoka who had conveniently hidden herself behind Kotori, “Honoka, you clean up the mess and then man the register for the rest of the night. Leave the floor to us. Make sure you don’t break anything else while cleaning.”

Honoka puffed her cheeks in indignation at the glaring lack of trust. “Umi-chan is a demon,” she muttered.

“What did you say?” Umi whipped her head towards Honoka, eyes narrowing into maniacal slits as the atmosphere around her turned dark instantaneously.

A shiver shot down Honoka’s spine. “N-Nothing!” she squeaked and promptly zipped to the storeroom to grab a broom and dustpan. After the floor was spotless once again, she replaced Kotori at the counter, greeting customers with her bright beams and chirpy voice as she took their orders.

 _“A medium hazelnut latte with non-fat milk, please,”_ a girl who appeared to be around Honoka’s age requested in fluent English.

Honoka blinked.

“Sorry, can you say that again?” she asked.

Now, it was the customer’s turn to blink. Her piercing green eyes stared at Honoka briefly before she repeated her order.

In English.

With a strong American accent.

 _Nooooo!_ Honoka screamed in her head. _I should’ve paid more attention during English class!_ She turned to Kotori for help but her taupe-haired friend was busy frothing milk at the far end of the counter and Honoka did not want to make it too obvious that she was panicking. She looked back at the customer and found the girl smiling. Honoka noted how the clear gloss accentuated the alluring pastel pink of her lips before her gaze shifted up to her exposed forehead beneath short chestnut bangs. It was charming, surprisingly. Not many girls had the confidence to flaunt their forehead to the judging eyes of others.

 _“Excuse me.”_ The stranger waved her hand before our distracted heroine. _“Are you okay?”_

Honoka jumped. _“I... I okay! S-Sorry. What? You... I... Want you!”_

If the customer was taken aback by Honoka’s unintended declaration of desire for her, she hid her surprise well. Instead, she giggled, eyes closing into mirthful crescents. Her laughter sounded like a melodious tinkling of bells. Honoka felt her face heating up, though she wasn’t sure if it was from embarrassment or the girl’s overall attractiveness. The girl raised her right index finger. _“One,”_ she said.

Honoka tilted her head, not quite getting what the brunette was driving at until she spoke again.

_“Mee... dium. Hazel... nut...”_

Honoka perked up, realizing that she was repeating her order - in English, of course - but very slowly. _Alright, I’ve got this!_ Honoka did a little fist pump under the wooden counter. Snatching a memo pad, she scribbled down the order, brows knitted in concentration. By the time the person was done saying her order, Honoka had beads of sweat threatening to roll down her forehead. She really needed to stop dozing off during classes. “That’ll be 660 yen!” she exclaimed. When she spotted the blank look on the other girl’s face, she was quick to catch on this time and gestured to the number reflected on the cash register.

_“Thank you.”_

_“Y-You are welcome!”_ Honoka gave herself a mental pat on her back for remembering this much at least. Suddenly, her senses were invaded by a pleasant whiff of fresh citrus as the girl leant over the counter, curious emerald irises peering intently at Honoka’s chest.

_Oh. My. God. Is she checking out my boobs? Did they grow bigger? Will I finally get to be like Nozomi-chan?_

Honoka straightened her back and puffed out her chest proudly, arms akimbo.

_“Miss Ho... noka.”_

The caramel-like voice interrupted Honoka’s puberty fantasies and she almost suffered whiplash when her head jerked towards its source.

_“My name is Kira Tsubasa. Nice to meet you.”_

It was only then the gears in Honoka’s brain whirred to life. _She was just reading my romaji name tag! Honoka, you dumbass! Who would check out your pathetic A-cups? I must have looked like an idiot! Can I bang my head? No, Umi-chan always says that will make me stupider. Uwaah... Does that mean I’m flat and stupid?! Wait, Umi-chan also says I’ve put on weight. That makes me flat, stupid and fat!_

With a growing grin, Tsubasa observed the rapid comical changes in the orange-haired girl’s expressions. She seemed to be having an internal struggle of sorts. In their short exchange, she had already discovered Honoka possessed the unbridled mind of an attention deficient child. This girl was interesting, Tsubasa decided.

 _“I’ll see you again. Soon,”_ she whispered huskily into Honoka’s ear, reducing the cashier to a baffled, blushing mess - due solely to the closeness, of course. Honoka could only watch, mouth agape, as Tsubasa made her way to a seat by the window with a slight sway of her hips.

If there was a phrase for Honoka to describe this Kira Tsubasa person, it would be “smooth as fuck”.

 

* * *

 

**Omake:**

Tsubasa thanked the navy-haired waitress who had brought her drink to her table. The waitress’ movements exuded the kind of grace observed in a Japanese woman raised in a strict and traditional family. On the other hand, the third staff member, a teenage girl with round amber eyes and a friendly high-pitched voice was the archetype of fluffy cuteness.

Suddenly, there was a deafening crash followed by a loud, pained cry. Tsubasa caught sight of Honoka sprawled on the floor in the most unglamorous position with an overturned chair beside her. Oddly, the other patrons paid no heed to the commotion.

“HONOKA!” The supposedly refined bluenette lost all traces of grace Tsubasa assumed she had. “I thought I told you to stay at the register!”

“B-But... I just wanted to help clear the tables!”

“No buts!”

“Kotori-chan! Save me!”

“U-Umi-cha-”

“Don’t start, Kotori! I’ve had enough of her clumsiness!” With eyes that looked ready to kill, Umi stormed towards Honoka whose face paled instantly. Honoka scrambled to her feet and bolted towards the back of the shop, nearly knocking down another chair in her haste.

Tsubasa’s lips curled into a smirk as she watched the boisterous exchange. _Interesting indeed. I’ll definitely have to come by again._ With that entertaining thought in mind, she lifted her mug and took a careful sip.

 _“Bitter!”_ she winced.

_No hazelnut syrup?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed this little piece as much as I enjoyed writing it :)


	2. Soon is Soon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsubasa returns. Honoka has a hard head. Kotori is a great friend. Umi is still whipped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to readers who left comments and/or kudos for the previous chapter. I really appreciate them and am glad to know you enjoyed my writing ^_^

Honoka had believed Tsubasa was joking when she said they would see each other again soon.

However, the next day, which was Tuesday as Umi had _kindly_ reminded her when she broke a saucer within the first hour of her shift, she was proven wrong.

The joyful tinkling of the cafe’s wind chime brought to one’s mind a cool summer’s breeze, or in Honoka’s case, a panic attack. She drew a sharp breath, nearly passing out from the oxygen rush when a familiar - and enthralling, Honoka couldn’t help but add - forehead came into view. As much as she would like to stick around to admire its gorgeous owner, she had embarrassed herself enough the previous day. Eyes frantically searching for a way to escape her post at the register, she sighed in dismay upon discovering her co-workers were all occupied.

_Why did I have to break that saucer? Now Umi-chan has banished me to this register of hot forehead English doom!_

Hands fisting her shamrock green apron, she watched Tsubasa with bated breath as the stunning girl strode past the shop’s furniture with a self-assured gait. She wondered how the brunette managed to look like a million bucks all the time. Tsubasa was undoubtedly shorter than average but somehow, she stood out even with that disadvantageous height. Her hair was glossy with satin-soft wavy ends that hung just above taut shoulders. Her eyes, mesmerizing pools not unlike precious gems, held a intelligent glint in them yet remained friendly enough to regard a poor, bumbling university student such as Honoka.

_“Hello!”_

Juicy notes of crisp tangerine spiked with hints of soothing jasmine wafted up Honoka’s nostrils. She unconsciously took in a deeper breath than necessary, losing herself in the tantalizing fragrance. How unfair. It was already evening yet Tsubasa smelled like the day had just begun.

 _“Are you okay?”_ Those striking eyes came within inches of Honoka’s face, causing the ginger to flinch with a half-strangled yelp and knock over the blender behind her. Arms flailing, she executed a dive that would make the national team’s goalkeeper proud and made a splendid save of the contraption.

**THUNK!**

And a howl of pain.

Tsubasa cringed. She was sure something hard - and hollow - had connected with the floor but it sounded nothing like the blending appliance. Leaning over the counter, she found Honoka hugging the blender on the floor as if her life depended on it. Hot tears streamed down Honoka’s face.

 _“Hey! Are you hurt?”_ Worry creased the flawless forehead that had so captivated Honoka. At the rate tears were cascading like the Niagara Falls from Honoka’s eyes, Tsubasa feared she had broken her skull until she saw the jubilant smile on the cashier’s face.

“I... I saved my pay!”

_“Huh?”_

“And Umi-chan won’t get to scold me again!” gloated Honoka.

Tsubasa’s gaze softened and she couldn’t resist letting a small smile slip at the scene. Aside from a bruised head, and perhaps bum, Honoka seemed be fine. Well, fine if you don’t consider what happened next.

“Honoka! I saw that! Did you break the blender?” blasted the ever vigilant Umi from across the cafe.

“Of course not! See!” Honoka sprang up and brandished the blender like a hard-earned trophy above her head.

“Get your act together. If you manage to even break something at the register, you have nowhere else to go!”

“Yes, yes, _Mother,_ ” Honoka answered begrudgingly. “Umi-chan is a slave driver,” she mumbled. “Can’t she at least praise me for my amazing save?”

“Umi-chan meant well. She’s just worried about you,” offered Kotori after hearing the fuss.

“She’s always scolding me.” Honoka placed the blender back, pouting.

“Cheer up, Honoka-chan. Here, have some bread.” Kotori popped a piece of freshly baked banana bread into Honoka’s mouth. Across them, Tsubasa noted with interest how Honoka’s face lit up instantly.

“Kotori...” Umi called in a warning tone. She rubbed her right temple, feeling a headache coming on. It was a common occurrence whenever she was around Honoka - which basically meant 80 percent of her time awake.

“Don’t be upset, Umi-chan. I’ll feed you a piece too later,” Kotori coaxed cheerily, sending a wink Umi’s way. The recipient of said love-love-max wink sputtered like an overheated engine, words failing her. With a face similar to a ripe tomato, she took to wiping the nearest empty - and totally clean - table vigorously, all the while muttering something about people being shameless in public.

Tsubasa chuckled at the pair’s interactions; she was right about returning to the cafe. A ruffling sound brought her attention back to Honoka who appeared to be readying for a fight from the way she was pushing up her sleeves and sucking in an impressive gulp of air.

 _“Sorry! You wait soooooo,”_ Honoka stretched out her arms sideways in an exaggerated fashion, _“looooong. Today, what want you?”_ She ended the question with an awkward tilt of her head and a what-should-be-cute-but-looked-like-she-was-cramping-up wink.

Tsubasa had to bite her tongue to maintain her composure.

Honoka’s eye and mouth twitched, evidently not adept at winking. _Why is she not answering? Does she not understand me? Did I mess up? Is my wink not as cute as Kotori-chan’s?_ She shook her head, slapping her cheeks. _Alright, chill, Honoka. Let’s try again._

 _“You want y-yesterday,”_ she did a backward circling motion in the air with her finger, _“same same?”_

 _Most customers have a favorite drink they always ask for. I’m sure it’d be no different for her! Take that, English! You can’t beat me at this game!_ Honoka nodded smugly to herself and did a mental victory dance.

_“I would like a small green tea soy latte. Make it iced, please.”_

And all words flew over Honoka’s head.

 _WHY?!_ If she could, she would smash her head on the counter but that would mean another pay cut if she damaged it with her thick skull (description courtesy of who else but Umi). Throat turning dry, she forced a horribly fake smile and croaked, _“S-Sorry. One again?”_

Bad, bad idea to ask.

Tsubasa casually propped her elbow against the sleek mahogany surface, closing their distance like it was the most natural thing to do. Reaching forward, she traced Honoka’s apron, hand brushing lightly against her tummy. Honoka sucked in her stomach, cursing her greedy self for having a second serving during dinner... plus that overnight sandwich she discovered in the cafe’s fridge.

Pinching the green fabric, Tsubasa dropped her voice to a low, sensual whisper. _“Green,”_ she said and glanced up, pleased to find Honoka’s eyes following her every move like a nervous little lamb. _“Green tea latte,”_ she repeated slowly. _“With soy milk.”_

Honoka gulped, nodding.

Almost languidly, Tsubasa dragged her finger up to the middle of Honoka’s chest, halting in between two modest mounds. _“In a small cup.”_

Heat seared through Honoka’s head. She tugged her uniform’s collar with a trembling hand. _Did the air-con break down? No, more importantly, did she just hint that my boobs are small? Puberty, come back! I promise I will be a good girl and drink milk every d-_

A soft hand cupped her burning cheek, shutting her brain up.

 _“With ice. Not hot like you,”_ Tsubasa breathed the last detail of her order and added a fetching wink for good effect. Then she straightened herself and took a step back, flashing a winsome smile as if she hadn’t practically seduced one of the shop’s staff during working hours.

Honoka blinked. And shook her head. Hard.

_No! I can’t let it end like this! Honoka, fight-o!_

She thumped her chest, driving down her rising nervousness. She had to do or at least say something. Sure, she was far from smart but she couldn’t let herself look like a fool every time. Looking up, she locked gazes with Tsubasa, her brilliant blue eyes set in a determined glare. She could do it! Yes, she could!

 _“P-Please come every day!”_ she blurted out.

...

 _WHAT THE F- DID I JUST SAY?_ This time she banged her head without hesitation. A loud crack sounded but she didn’t care. Maybe it’d be better if she was fired so she wouldn’t get to embarrass herself anymore. Of all times her English could be perfect, it _had_ to be now.

To say she was surprised would be an understatement; Tsubasa stared wide-eyed at the now keeled over Honoka, a look of awe adorning her beautiful features.

 _“Amazing!”_ She gripped Honoka’s shoulders, unintentionally scaring the ginger upright. _“You really are an interesting person!”_

“E-Eh?” Honoka gawked stupidly.

Tsubasa flashed a genuine, wide smile, looking even more dazzling than Honoka remembered. _“I will certainly come every day to see you.”_

Honoka’s brain short-circuited. All she could think of was Tsubasa’s honeyed voice saying “to see me” over and over again. Naturally, she fumbled with the payment process, dropping coins all over the floor noisily and hitting her head (again) when she stood up. Fighting back tears of pain, she handed the change to Tsubasa.

A sudden small pressure to her forehead snapped her out of her self-loathing state. Tender fingers massaged the raw bruise she had gained from smashing the counter.

 _“Take care, okay?”_ Tsubasa’s hand retracted sooner than Honoka would have liked. _“I’ll see you... soon.”_ And she left for the very same seat by the window before Honoka could gather a coherent response.

 

* * *

 

Later that night, as the trio were cleaning up the place, Umi walked over to Honoka.

“I’ve been wanting to ask...” she started. “But we were too busy just now.”

“Hmm?” Honoka stopped sweeping the floor, giving her friend a quizzical look. Suddenly, Umi reached for her forehead.

**Rriiip!**

“Ouch!” Honoka clutched her forehead in pain. “What are you doing, Umi-chan?! Eh? Isn't that a plaster?”

“Yes, a plaster.”

“How did-”

“Not just any plaster. Look.” Umi held the tiny strip by its two ends, pulling it straight. Honoka bent forward, peering curiously. A string of seemingly random numbers stared back at her.

“That’s such an interesting design for a plaster!” exclaimed Honoka.

Umi did not bother to fight the urge to roll her eyes. How her friend had survived to this day with that simple mind of hers was the world’s greatest mystery. “Are you an idiot? It’s a phone number!”

“A phone number?” Kotori piped excitedly from where she was wiping the coffee machine. Now _this_ she had to hear.

Honoka rubbed her chin and frowned in deep thought. No wonder the customers had been giving her funny looks all night. Why didn’t anyone tell her? She must have looked so stupid! However, instead of addressing that issue, her mind had already wandered further than expected of a normal human being.

“Why would there be a phone number? Could it be... It’s a lucky draw? Maybe if I call that number, I’d win 100 million yen?”

Thankfully, Kotori came over before Umi could rip Honoka a new one.

“I think it appeared after you served that girl who also came yesterday. The one who spoke English,” Kotori chipped in helpfully.

 _Girl who spoke English..._ Honoka’s eyes bulged. Her hand shot up to her forehead, remembering Tsubasa’s gentle touch. “Tsubasa-san?! That means... t-this is her number?”

Her two friends shared a look before nodding, albeit uncertainly.

“W-What should I do? Do I call her? But what if I don’t understand her? Or she doesn’t understand me?” Honoka was visibly getting flustered all over again.

Kotori giggled. “I think you should save her number first.”

“No,” Umi objected and promptly crushed the plaster.

Honoka screamed. Lunging forward, she pried the crumpled strip from Umi, desperately trying to untwist it. “My hot forehead Tsubasa-san...”

“Umi-chan! How could you do that?” Kotori chided, her strong tone startling Umi. “That could be Honoka-chan’s chance at love!”

“She could be a bad person for all we know!” rebutted Umi. “We don’t even know her background! What if she kidnaps Honoka?”

“Just give her a chance. I think Honoka-chan really likes her.”

“No. Too dangerous.”

“Umi-chan...” Large, puppy eyes peered at Umi.

“N-No, it won’t work, K-Kotori...”

Kotori grasped the front of her blouse, effectively bringing out the lovely curves of her breasts. “Umi-chan... Please!”

Umi’s resolve crumbled like six-year-old Honoka’s sandcastle. “F-Fine...” she caved in, utterly defeated. She was swiftly enveloped in a crushing bear hug from Kotori which caused her face to scorch a deep scarlet. _K-Kotori’s boobs... pressing against mine... So shameless... but so firm... I’m sorry, Mother, Father! I’ve sinned!_

“Thank you, Umi-chan! You’re the best!”

Kotori planted a peck on Umi’s cheek. Umi fainted. Honoka wailed - but for an entirely different reason.

“I smudged the number!” All that reckless twisting had produced way more friction than the ink could handle. Honoka dropped to the floor on all fours, sobbing.

**Knock, knock!**

Kotori turned towards the cafe’s entrance, brows furrowing. Who could it be? The cafe was already closed for the night. She squinted at the figure outside the door and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest when recognition hit her.

“Honoka-chan!” She shook the ginger excitedly but a sniffle was all she got. Alright, this called for drastic action. She put on her most comforting voice and patted her friend’s back. “Honoka-chan, it’s okay. You can always ask Tsubasa-san for her number again.”

Honoka let out a dry laugh. “Don’t need to console me. She might even be just kidding about coming ba-” Her words were cut off when Kotori grabbed her head none too gently and whipped it towards the door. A distinct crack sounded but it was the last thing on anyone’s mind. Honoka’s jaw dropped.

“T-Tsu-Tsu-Tsubasa-san?!”

Tsubasa took Honoka’s dumbstruck reaction as her cue to enter the cafe. Her heeled Chelsea boots clicked elegantly against the parquet until she came to a stop right before the gobsmacked Honoka.

_“Say, Honoka, would you like to have supper with me?”_

If Kotori wasn’t holding her, Honoka would have joined Umi on the floor.

When Tsubasa said soon, she truly meant _soon_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I hope you enjoyed this new installment. This should be the last official update for this story. I hadn't planned for it to be a long series but at the same time, I'm not ruling out the possibility of new chapters. I will write if I get new ideas. For now, I'd like to work on a new Tsubasa/Honoka fanfic. The world can never have enough TsubaHonks!


End file.
